


TRIAL #262

by Chickadddddd



Series: Melancholy AU [3]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baby Cecil, Gen, Government Experimentation, Melancholy AU, Original Character(s), Spiders, The Weather (Welcome to Night Vale), Typical Night Vale Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 02:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4986358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chickadddddd/pseuds/Chickadddddd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Black has a surprise for Cecil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	TRIAL #262

A dark-haired boy, not yet eight, rocked a little in his seat, craning his neck to see what Dr. Black had brought that day. The doctor had his back turned, holding a box made of glass. A pet, perhaps?

“What is it?” the boy squeaked, his small frame barely able to contain his excitement. Dr. Black turned, holding a small terrarium.

“It’s a tarantula— a kind of spider. Have you ever seen one of these before, Cecil?”

The boy scrambled up off the chair as the doctor carefully placed the box on the windowsill of the sunny office. Cecil pressed his nose and fingers to the glass eagerly.

“Do they bite? Can I hold it?” he asked breathlessly. He turned hopeful hazel eyes up toward the man, who smiled down at him.

“They don’t bite, but you have to be careful handling them. They can sting you with their hairs if they become frightened or stressed. Put your hand out - like that, yes, palm up,” he instructed.

“Weird!” Cecil exclaimed and then giggled as the spider crawled into his hand. “It’s tickly! Like… like a dog’s fur, a little. But way cooler!”

Cecil played with the tarantula for a long while as Dr. Black asked a few questions and took notes. When he was finished, he put the creature back into the terrarium and thanked the doctor.

“Can I play with Frederick next week too, doc?” Cecil asked.

“If we have time, perhaps,” said the doctor.

* * *

Next week’s appointment came and went, as did the one after. Each time, Cecil asked about Frederick the Tarantula, and every Friday Dr. Black told him they didn’t have enough time. On the third Friday, Cecil was once again sat in the too-tall chair, drinking an apple juice box and regarding the doctor as seriously as his round face allowed.

“You _promised_ ,” he said flatly, swinging his dangling legs.

“Sometimes these things don’t work out, Cecil.”

Cecil narrowed his eyes, grumbling, “I wish they _would_ work out though.” He huffed out a sigh, and didn’t notice the doctor sit up a little straighter, or the shadow darkening the ground-floor window of the office.

“Cecil,” the doctor said slowly, his voice low. A tapping noise on the glass drew the boy’s attention.

“Frederick!” he cried happily, bolting for the window. Something black, many-legged, and covered in thick fur waited outside. “You got bigger,” he continued as he fumbled with the bolt.

“No, Cecil— _do not open the window!_ ” Dr. Black ordered, backing up. He reached for something behind him with one hand, and muttered something into the wristwatch on the other. It was too late—Cecil flung the window open, inviting the horrifying creature inside. He turned to Dr. Black, who had put a desk between himself and the beast.

“You never told me that tarantulas are baby spiderwolves! That makes so much sense!” Cecil swung back and reached his hand out, palm up, grinning at the spider. “C’mon,” he coaxed.

“Cecil, get away from it! Come here,” the doctor demanded again.

Cecil glanced back. “Don’t be rude—” he started to say, before he was bowled over, the breath knocked out of him. He shook his head, started to stand, and heard a sickening crunch and a sharp grunt. He peered up from the ground and saw the doctor struggling, holding one of Frederick’s spindly limbs back, the man’s other arm hanging uselessly at his side.

“Doc?” Cecil shifted backward on his hands and knees.

“Cecil, listen to me,” Dr. Black gritted out. “Do your calming exercises. Do your weather—” the spiderwolf lunged again and he stumbled backward. “It’ll be ok,” he gasped.

Cecil finally found his strength and he scrambled up, making his way to the far side of the room, where a record player sat, case open. With trembling fingers he turned a dial and flicked a switch, and then set the needle on the disc. A few agonizing seconds of static punctuated by scuffling passed before the scratchy music burst to life.

“Do the weather, do the weather,” Cecil chanted over and over under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut. He did his breathing exercises and let the music wash over him. “Do the weather and everything will be okay.”

He imagined the desert sun, bright and improbable, did his best to picture the clouds rolling across the sky in flawless detail—every wisp and crevice, slowly, slowly creeping over the sun, blocking it out ray by ray. He imagined shadows settling over the dusty town below, turning the world from amber to mauve. He tried to feel the temperature drop and the dust prickle his skin as the wind picked up. He smelled ozone, the air heavy with the possibility of rain.

By the time the song was done, his inner world was complete. He chanced a peek, cracking one eye open and then the other. And he saw… the office. The colourful play mat, the shelves of toys, the doctor’s desk, impeccably neat. Dr. Black was sitting behind his desk, hands folded and smiling beatifically, as if he’d never been anywhere but in that spot.

Cecil looked toward the window, curtains fluttering in the breeze, and there sat a terrarium, and inside it a small tarantula huddled against a rock.

“Well done, Cecil,” Dr. Black said.

“What happened to Frederick?” Cecil asked curiously, making his way to the windowsill.

“He— he left. This is Jessica.”

Cecil laughed, gently opening the lid to let Jessica climb on his hand.

While he was occupied, Dr. Black scribbled notes, glancing at the surveillance camera in the corner of the room.

_TRIAL #262 – SUCCESS_


End file.
